One's Salvation
by diablo2121
Summary: This is Siegfried Schtauffen's story of redemption.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

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1568; As the Holy Roman Empire recovered from the past half-century of the Great Italian Wars, Germany decided to take this opportunity to revolt against the oppression. Banding together, German peasants and soldiers were up in arms, determined to break free from the clutches of Rome.

This is a story of a young man; only 23 years old, but a man nonetheless; a man who has seen countless lives taken without hesitation or remorse. This is a story of a man whose sole hatred is directed to the one thing he cannot escape: himself. Eternally damned, he walks the earth in search of redemption with the blood of millions staining his hands. This story is about Siegfried Schtauffen, and this story begins with Frederick Schtauffen.

Frederick was a championed knight fighting for the liberation of his country. He found love one day with a woman named Margaret who would become Siegfried's mother. Following in his father's footsteps, Siegfried yearned to learn the code of chivalry and defend his country, but there were other plans for this warrior.

Perhaps a result of cosmic coincidence or maybe it was fate all along, but Siegfried would never raise his blade in honor of his home. No, this man will have to sit idly by, helpless, as the most pure force of evil pierced his soul and cursed his body. Through all this damnation and adversity, there exists a flicker of hope; Siegfried Schtauffen will bring peace to this world, and perhaps find peace within himself.

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**End**

_If you enjoy this story, please keep in mind that most characters and story plot devices are IP of Namco and the Project Soul Team. I simply fleshed out the beautiful story they have written in the Soul Edge/Calibur games to bring you my interpretation of Siegfried's character. Please review as this is my first time writing a fanfic, and I would appreciate any constructive criticisms or comments._


	2. Chapter 1: The Return

**Chapter 1: The Return**

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The sun peered through the window, softly at first as if to see if anyone was awake yet. Siegfried stirred, his momentary lapse back into consciousness used only to turn around, embracing the darker corner of his room. As the morning sun continued to escape the clutches of the horizon, the room seemed to come alive as the light slowly brought the color back after a long, moonless night.

Slowly but inevitably, objects in Siegfried's room regained their identity. The first of which to discern itself from the dark void was Siegfried's desk next by the window. The sunlight flickered across the stack of letters littered across the tabletop, letters filled with adventures and tales that Frederick Schtauffen had seen on his military campaign away from the small German town of Ober-Getzenberg. These letters would be Margaret and Siegfried's only contact with Frederick for months, sometimes years, at a time. If anyone were to ask, Frederick would say that the only downside to fighting for your country's honor and name was the great distances it put between you and your loved ones.

As the sunlight crept past the edge of the table and unto the floor, piles of clothes and books were illuminated, littered across the floor in no particular order. His father's importance was evident as his school books and work were found nowhere near his desk. The rays of sun suddenly hit a surface that reflected the light vibrantly backwards onto a wall. The light had found the broadsword that had taken up much of Siegfried's time the past couple years as he constantly tried to perfect his swordsmanship in an attempt to bring pride the day his father returned. The metal was dull after thousands of uses, parrying, and repelling, evidence of Siegfried's determination and dream to follow his father down the path of a knight.

The sun continued to explore the depths of the room panel by panel on the wooden floor until it reached the foot of the bed. Here, the wall of light seemed to struggle as slowly began its vertical ascent towards the young sleeping boy. As the sun's fingers rested softly on Siegfried's shoulder, the warmth and light of the room roused Siegfried from his slumber. Siegfried took in his first, deep breath of the day; out in the distance, the faint trotting of hooves could be heard over the crowing roosters.

Siegfried's eyes shot open; he leapt out of bed and bounded for the window. His eyes struggled to search for the source of trotting, but only processed a brilliant sunrise that emblazoned his messy golden hair. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden change of light, Siegfried could make out a single figure approaching on horseback 100 yards away. A smile broke out on the boy's face, and without stopping to confirm if he was mistaken, he jolted out of his room and down the stairs.

_He's finally home! I just know it!_ "Mom, wake up! He's home! He's home!" he screamed as he nearly tripped over the last several steps. He burst out of the house just as his mother came out of her room to see what all the commotion was about. She hurried out the house, irritated at being woken so abruptly.

"Just what do you think you are doing, Siegfried? You just can't be hollering around the house so early in the morn-" Her scorning was cut short as she was at a loss for words. She followed her son's gaze out to the fields and saw what she had dreamt of every night since she had last felt her husband's loving embrace.

After 3 years, Frederick Schtauffen had finally come home.

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**End**

_If you enjoy this story, please keep in mind that most characters and story plot devices are IP of Namco and the Project Soul Team. I simply fleshed out the beautiful story they have written in the Soul Edge/Calibur games to bring you my interpretation of Siegfried's character. Please review as this is my first time writing a fanfic, and I would appreciate any constructive criticisms or comments._


	3. Chapter 2: Faust

**Chapter 2: Faust**

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Frederick slowed his horse. It had been a long night for both of them, and the horse's fatigue was evident. Seeing the familiar stable, it longed to rest and drink from its familiar trough once again. Frederick, on the other hand, had other intentions. It had been three long years. The motherland of Germany was wrought with dissent and revolution. Roman Catholicism used its divine influence to grip most of Europe. It was not until several years before, the foundations of Christianity were shaken up by Luther's Theses. The Protestant Revolution took hold, and the German states were thrown into centuries of discontent and revolt. Frederick chose to be the instrument of his country's call for independence. There were still long roads ahead of him, but for now, after three years of blood, battle, and glory, he was returning home.

He had missed the comforts of his homestead while on duty. Siegfried had promised to maintain the entire estate while his father was away. The Schtauffen family was self-supporting; they had a modest field for crops, a barn for the livestock, and a horse to help till the fields. In the middle of the homestead stood the two-story house that Frederick built himself after first meeting and marrying Margaret. The house still stood majestically despite the toils that Germany has been through since being built. Frederick smiled as he approached the home; Siegfried had kept his word.

"Father! It is so good to see you again! I'm sure you have returned home as a hero who has struck down the enemies of Germany. How many enemy soldiers did you defeat?"

Frederick let out a refreshed chuckle. "It's hard to remember such numbers and figures while fighting for survival, and it's not about how many men I have fell, but that Germany remains protected from the imposing will of the Empire. It's good to come home. I see everything is in order just as I left it."

"Of course, I did everything just as you taught me."

Frederick smiled as he climbed off his noble stallion. He put his arm around his son and gave him a reassuring shake. "You did well, Siegfried." His gaze then fell upon the silent woman standing at the doorway. Three years of unspoken words ravished the void between the two lovers. Frederick's mouth broke into a grin, the same grin Margaret remembered first brought the two together 16 years ago when she volunteered as a nurse at a German militia camp. Margaret fell apart. Her heart burst in joy, yet her eyes could not control her tears. She leapt from the porch into the arms of her husband, three years of worry melting away as her world became complete once again.

"And I have missed you too, my love," Frederick said as he squeezed her.

"It's good to see you still walking, Frederick," sniffed Margaret.

The moment was interrupted as a sudden shout pierced the air. "Wow! Where'd you get this?!" Siegfried unraveled a large lump of cloth from the wagon filled with Frederick's equipment and left-over supplies. Underneath the dull cloth shone the cold steel of a blade. Siegfried hefted the blade out the cart and held it up high, admiring the gleaming blade in the rising sun. The blade was a force to be reckoned with, a broad zweihander which stood almost as tall as Siegfried did.

"That is a fine blade pilfered from one of the battles. It was found in the vault of a castle we overrun. Some say it was forged over a black fire in ancient Rome, and despite being used over the past centuries in countless battles, it has never grown dull or recast. The Romans call it Faust."

Siegfried stared at his reflection. The steel shone as brightly as it had when it was forged; there was no way the sword had survived millennia of battle. "Faust…" he struggled as he attempted to examine the blade from every angle. "It's so heavy, yet it slices through the air like a feather."

"Yes, I have never seen a blade forged with such detail and care. It was a wonder the Romans kept it locked up as treasure. Have you been keeping up with your swordsmanship?"

"Have I ever?!" exclaimed the young, proud warrior. "I am undefeated in Ober-Getzenberg and this side of the river." He raised up his new blade, eager to show his father how much he had improved.

"Haha! I have fought for the past three years, son. The only thing I want to do now is enjoy a home-cooked breakfast with my family."

"I'll go get it started," said Margaret as she rushed inside, eager to once again cook for three.

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**End**

_If you enjoy this story, please keep in mind that most characters and story plot devices are IP of Namco and the Project Soul Team. I simply fleshed out the beautiful story they have written in the Soul Edge/Calibur games to bring you my interpretation of Siegfried's character. Please review as this is my first time writing a fanfic, and I would appreciate any constructive criticisms or comments._


	4. Chapter 3: New Tricks

**Chapter 3: New Tricks**

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The air cleaved in two as Frederick brought his blade down. Siegfried rolled to the side, feeling the gust of air hit the ground and disperse before the deafening roar of steel impacted the dirt. As the boy rolled to his feet, he felt the reverberating tremor emanate from where he once stood. Father was not messing around. He rushed towards his father, his blade at his side. He feigned left, swinging his sword into his father's midsection. Frederick recognized the attack, and his blade turned to face the attack. Both men used gigantic zweihander broad swords in combat. These blades stood six feet tall and required the utmost concentration and control when wielding. When proficiently handled, the large blade can guard against even the quickest of daggers and knives. The entire body was behind each attack, and it seemed these two warriors were simply men holding onto their weapons as they parried and repelled in a fantastic dance of steel.

Siegfried twisted abruptly, now swinging in the opposite direction, the tension of momentum twisting from his legs through his body and arms. Frederick was surprised at his son's cunning, and ducked under what would've been his son's triumphant strike. Siegfried was not planning on missing the attack, and continued helplessly spinning as he shifted his footing to defend. Frederick delivered a swift heel in the back of Siegfried's armored back. The steel boot crunched and Siegfried feel to his hands and knees, disappointed.

"You've grown quick," Frederick admitted as he lifted his blade, ready for the next assault. "Dodging can save your life, but it will tire you out quickly. You must learn to block the attacks. Read your opponent's movements." Frederick thrust the sword towards Siegfried's chest, his aging body beginning to complain from the stress of such a heavy weapon. The blade whistled towards the boy, but was stopped as Siegfried raised his blade in defense. Shifting his body weight, he pushed his father's sword off of him and struck him in the ribs with a side kick. Frederick coughed as his breath was forced from his lungs. Using this stun to his advantage, Siegfried continued spinning, bringing his huge zweihander around and sweeping low at his father's legs. Momentum was integral when handling a blade as large as yourself and heavy too.

Frederick reacted and flipped his sword with the flick of his wrist. When the handle found his hand once again, he thrust the sword downwards. As steel met steel, Siegfried was thrown forward as his blade was parried to the side. He relinquished his weapon and braced his face as his elbows hit the ground. Siegfried rolled over and spit the dirt out of his mouth. "How did you do that?"

"Blocking can save your life, but when your enemy is on the offensive, you must always be looking for a break in the flow. Your sword will not last long if all you can manage is guarding. You must use your enemy's movement against them. Do not take the brunt of the attack; your sword may shatter. Redirect the force to your advantage. Throw your opponent off, and move on the offensive. Dueling is a game of flow."

"Flow... got it. I guess it helps that Faust is indestructible. This thing doesn't even have a scratch on it! Remarkable." Siegfried sprung to his feet and lifted Faust off the ground. He swung it around himself, creating a black torrent of steel. The sword seemed to float as it cut through the air, tracing complex arches around the boy. The blade seemed to grow warmer the faster it swung around. A marvelous whistling could be heard throughout the field, and light dust and pebbles were swept up by the currents.

"Yes, that sword truly is a work of art." Frederick knew the sword was expertly crafted to slice through the air, but Siegfried been determined and trained endlessly while he was away. All his hard work paid off as well. The boy showed remarkable handling of the zweihander, handling that took Frederick over 20 years to master. He would make Germany proud one day. "Go wash up, boy. That's enough for today."

"Over? I'm going to keep practicing some more. I have a title to defend in a few weeks. Word is the others are growing tired of losing and have been training extra hard this year. I won't let that happen. I will be the best swordsman in Germany. Not even the Emperor will dare face me in battle!"

"Very well, oh feared one. I'll call you when it's supper time." Frederick turned and walked back towards the house. Even under the plate armor he wore, his muscles screamed of fatigue. The general smiled as he drudged back. He had fought in countless battles, killed thousands in the name of Germany, and a day of training with his son had gotten the best of him. He hadn't remembered being this sore during battle. Siegfried was relentless since he returned. Margaret did not think it was possible for Siegfried to practice more than he had when Frederick was away. It was as if now that he was back, Siegfried seemed even more determined to impress his father. The old father let out a chuckle. He was truly impressed. He could not have asked for a better warrior or a better son.

"One day... the boy might even defeat me."

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**End**

_If you enjoy this story, please keep in mind that most characters and story plot devices are IP of Namco and the Project Soul Team. I simply fleshed out the beautiful story they have written in the Soul Edge/Calibur games to bring you my interpretation of Siegfried's character. Please review as this is my first time writing a fanfic, and I would appreciate any constructive criticisms or comments._


	5. Chapter 4: Nightmare

**Chapter 4: Nightmare**

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Siegfried stirred. It was so cold. He could feel a prevailing chill surround him, penetrating his skin and bones. His hand brushed past his leg. Something did not add up; his arms pressed against his bare chest and patted down his stomach and legs. He was naked.

Siegfried opened his eyes. No good. Blackness was everywhere. He blinked several times, climbing to his feet. He took a look around, but all that stared back at him was blackness. He looked at his naked body. Strange.

"This place is completely dark, yet I can still see myself," he mused. He tried to take a step to his left but stumbled. Siegfried steadied himself, studying his surroundings. It felt like he was floating, floating on nothing. He teetered on his toes trying to find a solid ground.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Nothing answered him, not even the wind; just the echo that traveled and dissipated into the void. A rumbling emerged from total silence, softly at first. Siegfried spun around, searching for the disturbance. The rumbling grew progressively louder. It filled his head, shaking his bones, but the blackness did not stir. As the sound kept growing, Siegfried dropped to his knees, the echo reverberating in his skull. He clenched his jaw, grabbing his head.

A sharp pain cleaved his skull and Siegfried screamed and collapsed to the ground writhing, and as quickly as it came, the pain stopped. Siegfried remained on the ground panting, wary of moving again.

_**Darkness…**_

Siegfried held his breath. That voice; he couldn't explain it, but it frightened him. It was distorted, laced with malice that Siegfried did not recognize.

**_Darkness hides the truth._**

A blinding light erupted out of nowhere, yet it filled the void everywhere. Siegfried tried to block the intense light with his hands, but it was futile. The brightness ripped through him. Even with his eyes tightly shut, the light still blinded him. His eyes began to water and sting.

**_Like darkness, truth is absolute._**

Siegfried cringed; the voice penetrated him like the darkness and the light. He covered his ears, shutting out the voice. He laid in the fetal position, gasping for what seemed an eternity, the bitter, cold white light pinning him to the one spot.

Siegfried stirred. _I must have blacked out._ His body felt numb from the cold. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The darkness was gone. Instead, Siegfried was surrounded by white. The brightness no longer ravaged his pupils. He crawled to his feet and looked around. Just white, not even a shadow. As he took his first step once again, he was interrupted by bloodcurdling screams.

"NOOO! Please… PLEA-" The pleading ended with agony. Pain and agony were everywhere. Male and female voices. Old and young voices. Screams that echoed eternity. They did not pause even for breaths as if the suffering the voices endured longed for a quick death rather than continued existence. Siegfried's breathing quickened, his eyes darting and searching through the white void for people.

A child's voice broke through the screams. "H-h-h-help me please…" it whimpered.

"Where are you?" Siegfried demanded.

"The pain has no end… It hurts!" cried the little girl's voice.

"I can help! Just tell me where you are!"

The crying grew steadily. "No… NOOO!" Her voice joined the countless others writhing in agony.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" screamed Siegfried, sick of the tortured screams.

The screams terminated. Siegfried held his gasping breath to listen for any evidence of what happened.

Drip.

Siegfried searched for the source of dripping. It seemed like rain. It started as steady drops but quickened. Siegfried spun around saw out in the distance the first thing that wasn't blackness or light. Crimson drops stained the blank void, falling from another altitude impossible to discern. The droplets of blood fell onto the white, pooling together. The blood storm continued increasing intensity, and the blood poured down towards Siegfried. Instinctively, Siegfried ran. The floating was no longer a problem; he couldn't explain it, but he had to get away from all the blood. He sprinted in the direction away from the storm, his feet coming in contact with some sort of ground, but all he could hear was the blood pouring down from behind.

In front of him, his shadow ran along with him. He glanced behind him. The blood was streaming down now at a ferocious rate, tracking Siegfried's movements. He urged every muscle in his body to move faster, running at full speed now. Ahead of him, his shadow darted across the void as if trying to escape the storm without him. The raining blood was close now; he could hear the patter of each drop as it hit the ground behind him. He glanced behind once more to see the clean strip of white dwindling. It loomed closer with each stride he took.

Panicking, he tripped and fell forward. The shadow loomed in front of him, but Siegfried did not fall. The shadow shifted shape, its legs and arms shrinking as the shadow shifted into a grotesquely mutated claw. It grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up. Siegfried could smell the blood as the pools flowed under his feet. The streams of crimson rain fell on his face, blurring his vision. Siegfried spit the blood out of his mouth and struggled to free his neck. The shadow released its gripped, returning to its original form as Siegfried fell to his knees, rivers of blood running down his cheeks onto his shadow.

Panting, Siegfried struggled to take in deep breaths. There was so much blood. Gone was the spellbinding whiteness, its short existence tainted by only bloody crimson. Out of the crimson void, Siegfried's shadow lurched off the ground and consumed him. Siegfried tumbled end over end, direction losing all meaning. Around him, the darkness continued to surround his blood-soaked body. He screamed, but nothing came out. The darkness totally consumed him, and Siegfried felt as if his being was being ripped apart by a million forces in different directions.

**_Become a part of the nightmare!_**

Siegfried awoke with a jolt. His eyes jerked open, and he saw the wood-paneled floor of his room before he crashed on it. His heart pounding, Siegfried climbed back on his bed. His sheets were soaked in cold sweat that clung to his back as his chest heaved up and down. Calming himself, Siegfried attempted to relax. Tomorrow was a big day, and he needed his rest.

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**End**

_If you enjoy this story, please keep in mind that most characters and story plot devices are IP of Namco and the Project Soul Team. I simply fleshed out the beautiful story they have written in the Soul Edge/Calibur games to bring you my interpretation of Siegfried's character. Please review as this is my first time writing a fanfic, and I would appreciate any constructive criticisms or comments._


End file.
